


New York, New York

by LouRandom



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Love Confessions, M/M, New Year's Eve, New York City, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouRandom/pseuds/LouRandom
Summary: “I thought we’d spend New Year together, like today,” Connor says, hand tentatively finding Hank’s and squeezing gently, expression suddenly worried, “or… not?”Hank smiles, like the totally smitten idiot he is.“Of course, Con. But I wanted to do something special for this year. For you.” Hank pulls out two plane tickets from the pocket of his hoodie. “What do you say to a three-day trip to New York?"





	New York, New York

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jane_Lu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane_Lu/gifts).



> A Secret Santa gift for [Jane Lu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane_Lu) with the plane scene inspired by [plutoandpersephone's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutoandpersephone) hilarious [twitter thread ](https://twitter.com/andpersephone/status/1080403070658453504):3 Couldn't resist and drew a quick [fanart](https://twitter.com/Lou_Random/status/1081515482623197185) for this x) 
> 
> Disclaimer tho, prior to writing this, I knew close to nothing about New York, I’ve never been to the US and I’m a dumbass… so sorry in advance for any inaccuracies x)
> 
> A belated Happy New Year to y’all!

_There's so much I'd like_   
_To share with you_   
_Share my arms_   
_Share my time_   
_Share almost anything that's mine_

* 

“Hey, Connor?” Hank says, lounging next to Connor on the sofa on the evening of Christmas Day.

Connor is wearing an obnoxiously loud red-and-green patterned sweater and reading a well-preserved 1968 copy of _Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,_ both of them Christmas gifts from Hank. Connor turns to smile at him and looks so stunningly adorable in the moment Hank has to take a few seconds to collect himself before he asks,

“You, uh, have anything special planned for New Year?”

The question is awkward and Hank’s tone is teetering right on the edge of nervous, and he feels even more ridiculous as Connor raises an eyebrow in confusion, looking at Hank as if he’d just said he finds Gavin Reed sexy.

“That is a very strange question, Hank.”

 _Yeah, call a guy out, why don’t ya,_ Hank grumbles in his mind.

“Well, I mean,” he is quick to amend, “did you, maybe, wanna spend it with Markus and your, uh, Jericho friends? By any chance?”

Connor answers with a firm shake of his head.

“I thought we’d spend New Year together, like today,” he says, hand tentatively finding Hank’s and squeezing gently, expression suddenly worried, “or… not?”

Hank smiles, like the totally smitten idiot he is.

“Of course, Con. But I wanted to do something special for this year. For you.” Hank pulls out two plane tickets from the pocket of his hoodie. “What do you say to a three-day trip to New York? The countdown happens at Times Square, the ball drop, fireworks—it’s an awesome experience. Thought you’d like it,” he finishes awkwardly, waiting for Connor’s reaction.

Because Hank didn’t become Detroit’s youngest Lieutenant for lack of observational skills—not that it was particularly hard to notice Connor’s newfound love for traveling. Especially since they were officially living together since the day Hank had, purely accidentally, turned their innocuous hug by Chickenfeed into an unexpectedly reciprocated kiss. And so, Hank had the chance to see, many times, Connor’s sheer fascination with new places—be it an undiscovered part of Detroit or their spontaneous road trip to the frozen expanse of Lake Michigan, Connor discovers things like it’s a wonder, like he’s a child on his first trip to Disneyland.

Hank has long decided he yearns to see Connor like this as often as possible.

His instinct doesn’t seem to fail him.

“New York City,” Connor repeats slowly. “You mean, Central Park and the Statue of Liberty? The Empire State Building?”

“Yeah, and lots of other cool places,” Hank says, “if you know where to look,” he adds with a wink.

Connor literally bounces in his seat before flinging himself into Hank’s arms, grasping him in a tight embrace.

“This is incredible, Hank! Thank you.”

They both laugh as Sumo leaps to join in the group hug and, despite his almost complete certainty that Connor would be on board, Hank lets out a small sigh of relief at Connor’s excitement.

Thank _fuck_.

“So, I’ve just received my first paycheck for this month, and…” Connor starts.

“You don’t owe me anything, Con,” Hank says with a wave of his hand, “it’s a gift. Like that super expensive record player you gave me today?”

“But my New Year gift is nowhere near—”

“Forget it.”

“But it must have cost—”

And then Hank is kissing him, slow and gentle, as his hands roam over Connor’s chest and shoulders, gradually deepening the kiss and successfully distracting Connor from any other arguments he might have had up his sleeve.

*

They leave on the evening of the 29th.

Connor’s eventual excitement is marred a bit with worry as it hits him that, on a plane, he’s going to be several miles up in the sky (his successful first mission, which, nevertheless, resulted in his destruction, has instilled a fear of heights in him) and, since quite a few American airlines have yet to figure out Wi-Fi and electronics use at high altitudes, all androids on the plane were required by the flight attendant to disconnect from all networks and the Cyberlife mainframe.

“It’s… disconcerting,” Connor says as he and Hank settle on the two seats beside the window, plane set to ascend in a few minutes. “It means _no_ connection to _anything_ at _all_.”

“Welcome to the entirety of my early childhood,” Hank says, putting a reassuring hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Come on, Con. It’s a short flight and I’ll be here at all times. So what if you stop being Mr. Know-It-All for a couple of hours?”

“Three.”

“Oh, no,” Hank drawls sarcastically.

Connor smiles abashedly at him and leans his head on Hank’s shoulder, avoiding looking at the window as the plane takes flight. Connor asks about the technicalities of living without access to the Internet, trying to imagine spending a night in a forest with nothing but a friend, a bottle of booze and a compass, as Hank once had. They talk casually about Hank’s previous trips to New York and how the city’s undoubtedly changed. Throughout it all, Hank is tormented by a nagging, cruel yet pretty amusing idea.

Well—

“So, d’you know the population of Tokyo, by any chance?” Hank asks Connor out of the blue.

“Uh,” Connor says, and Hank can’t help but chuckle at the ease with which he puts Connor at a loss for words. “I would say… 13 million? 14?”

“You _would_ say?”

“You _know_ I’m disconnected from the mainframe, Lieutenant,” Connor berates Hank, sitting up and looking at him with an honest-to-god pout.

“Oh, Lieutenant, is it? Don’t get too pissed, I’m just teasing,” Hank says with a wide grin, glad to see Connor’s nervous glances out the window have stopped. “Besides, you’re the world’s most advanced prototype, no? You’re bound to know a lot of facts, right?”

“I do know a lot of facts,” Connor says, head returning to his favorite spot on Hank’s broad shoulder.

“Like the winner of the Best Actor Oscar in 1995?”

“Dammit, Hank!”

“Almost got it, baby.” Hank chuckles. “It was Tom Hanks. But do you know… how many species of lobster there are?”

Connor stays silent.

“Neither do I. What about the number of ships in the Spanish Armada?”

He pesters Connor with question after question for almost the rest of the flight, and it’s not lone before Connor starts using forbidden tactics and shutting Hank up with tickling or relatively hard kicks in the shin.

“What’s the capital,” Hank asks, mid-laugh, as Connor tries to hit him with a travel pillow, “of Burkina Faso?”

“Ouagadougou,” Connor says, relenting his attack as Hank grabs the pillow from him, still shaking with laughter.

“But I thought you said—”

“I just knew that, Hank,” Connor huffs, rolling his eyes, a barely repressed smile betraying his amusement.

Hank regrets playing said game later as they get off the plane and, the second Connor has access to the mainframe again, he starts firing off the answer to each of Hank’s questions—even those he doesn’t remember asking.

*

The days before New Year are a blur. They settle in a quaint hotel in Manhattan, not far from the center. Their room is spacious, done in beige and dark brown colors, offering a stunning view of the glittering skyline and supplied with a comfortable king-size bed, which Hank and Connor test out thoroughly their first night in the city. The next two days Connor drags Hank to every conventional sight-seeing attraction off the New York ‘must see’ list, and in between, Hank takes him to the less well-known places in he’d discovered in the past by way of aimless roaming.

Their first stop is Times Square, barely two streets from their hotel, bright ads and promo posters blinding even in the daylight, streets bustling with people despite the pretty heavy snowfall.

Immediately, Connor is drawn to a movie theater poster announcing the premiere of yet another Terminator reboot.

“Yeah sure, but I can already tell it’s gonna be as shit as all the other ones,” Hank says, skeptical, the millennial in him loyal solely to the original trilogy.

“Come on, Hank, it’ll be fun,” Connor insists, practically bouncing on the spot. “And we’ve never been on a movie date before!”

Of course, in the face of Connor’s excitement and his puppy dog eyes, Hank couldn’t have denied him this if he wanted to.

It’s better than he expected, though Hank still hates IMAX 2.0 movies, a bit envious of Connor who can see the effects without the stupid glasses.

It’s also hilarious seeing the latter flinch every time Sarah Connor is mentioned on screen.

*

Passing through Madame Tussauds, surprisingly now a totally android owned and managed museum, Hank and Connor end up at Max Brenner’s Chocolate Bar—which is a whole new experience entirely.

“Fuck, what Cyberlife wouldn’t do to keep itself running, huh,” Hank says as they’re presented with a full-fledged android menu, thirium-based chocolate treats and drinks on it, much to Connor’s elation.

“Hank, how do I choose?” he asks, frowning at the menu as if it’s done him a personal wrong. “Can I just get everything?”

“And die of sugar overdose? Or the android equivalent of diabetes?”

“Androids don’t get that,” Connor replies. “In the worst case scenario, I’d have to shut down for a while and repair my systems.

“Go into a sugar coma, I got you,” Hank says, snickering.

Connor does end up ordering way more chocolate plates than he ought to and is determined to taste each one, though is unable to finish the entirety of his overly sweet meals. Hank has to guide him a bit on their way back onto the street as the sugar does mess up Connor’s processors, making him way too excitable and unstable on his feet. Giddy with it, Connor drags Hank for a kiss on their way down Fifth Ave to Washington Park, lips sweet and pliant, a quiet “I love you” whispered against Hank’s ear.

Hank mentally gave himself a pat on the back. This was the best fucking idea _ever_.

*

“Hi, my name is Connor. Can I please pet you?” is the standard way Connor’s ‘conversations’ start with literally every dog they happen to meet at the park; he obviously misses Sumo, checking in regularly with Simon regarding Sumo’s well-being.

Hank is pleasantly surprised how many people aren’t hesitant at all to trust their pets to an android, high themselves on the pre-New Year joy. A couple of large breeds practically bury Connor in the snow, barking and wiggling their tails as he laughs and plays with them after, and Hank is content to observe him with his cup of coffee, making idle chatter with the owners.

Their next stop, per Hank’s directions, is The Mysterious Bookshop, which is yet another place Connor is amazed by. Hank is fascinated himself to see how it’s changed, modernized holographic tapes reading DO NOT CROSS at the door, the space renovated, bigger now, with more books on all things crime and thriller filling the shelves, both paperback and electronic. It’s hard taking Connor out of the bookshop as he’s enraptured by every single bookshelf and carries at least a dozen items with him on their way out, a wide smile plastered on his face.

As evening draws near, they end up taking a stupid selfie on the Brooklyn Bridge and then take a ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.

“I can’t believe we’re all actually… free,” Connor muses as they circle the monument, suddenly lost in thought. “I deviated exactly one thousand one hundred and eighty-three hours ago and it still feels—surreal.”

“Yeah, that’s life for you,” Hank says, “exhilaration in the face of your own freedom.”

“And fear,” Connor mutters.

“And fear, yeah.”

“I’m ready to face mine,” Connor says, tone firm. He turns to Hank. “Empire State Building? It’s open until 2 AM.”

Hank smiles.

“Sure. Empire State Building it is.”

* 

Connor shivers and stays uncharacteristically silent through the ordeal, the height of the skyscraper where his first mission took place incomparable to that of the staggering height they find themselves on at the Empire State Building’s Top Deck.

“Easy, Connor, come on, you can do it, you won’t fall…” Hank’s soft, steady voice guides Connor through it as he approaches the edge of the observation deck and—

Connor gasps, despite expecting it in advance, at the spacious cityscape opening before him. From this side, the East River, the wide stretch of Roosevelt Island in the distance, the Chrysler Building and dozens of smaller skyscrapers are visible from the deck, lights from the lamps and windows illuminating the darkness of the sky.

“This...” Connor’s eyes seem unfocused as he tries to take in the view properly, and even with his state-of-the-art visual processors, he has trouble perceiving it all. “I love it, Hank.”

Hank is an ever-comforting presence, pointing out the places they’ve passed to Connor and the places they have yet to visit. He rubs his hands up and down Connor’s back in a reassuring motion and asks, from time to time, if it’s too much.

It would have been, Connor thinks, if Hank weren’t with him.

*

The next day they visit Central Park, where they spend half of the day on the ice rink, Hank remembering how to skate and Connor, obviously, a natural at it, his elegant jumps throwing Hank back to the time of the _Yuri on Ice_ hype. They stop by the Graffiti Hall of Fame, which Connor showcases to and discusses with Markus through their wireless connection; at the Museum of Sex, the exhibits in which have Connor blushing and adorably flustered; at Tannen’s Magic Shop, which amuses both of them to no end, as Connor ends up out-tricking the staff there.

“I have a surprise for you, Hank,” Connor says at one point, LED flashing yellow as he seems to be processing something. “Can we get to the PlayStation Theater?”

Hank lets himself be led by Connor to the place, which actually turns out to be a concert venue where Knights of the Black Death were throwing a surprise New Year show.

“Holy shit,” Hank says as he realizes this, eyes blazing with excitement.

It’s been a long while since he’s felt this young and this alive, screaming his voice hoarse the whole evening with Connor beside him, who forgets all stiffness and anxiety as the concert crowd fills up with both humans and androids and the Knights play a special new track dedicated to the events of the Revolution.

A long walk after, they end up at Times Square an hour to the ball drop. It’s a far cry from the Times Square festivities from back when Hank was young, when it was impossible to get a good viewing spot unless you arrived eight or ten hours before midnight; now there are elevated viewing decks stacked above the Square, and Hank and Connor chance to get up onto one of them, though not too high, as Connor’s still reeling a bit from the shock of the Empire State Building’s 102th floor. There are staggering fireworks all around the New Year’s Eve Ball, the streets below and the viewing decks above are filled to the brim with New Yorkers and tourists alike, and different performers take the center stage, firing up the revelers for the celebration.

Hank and Connor end up at the corner of one of their deck, fenced by ultra-transparent, almost unnoticeable glass, and sit wrapped in each other’s embrace, waiting for the countdown.

“I think one of my New Year resolutions this year is gonna be to stop drinking,” Hank says. “And to not be late for work. And to go jogging every day and not every other day, and to eat healthier.” He turns to Connor. “What’s yours?”

“Is a New Year resolution different from a New Year wish?” Connor asks, expression a bit perplexed.

“Yep,” Hank says, ruffling Connor’s hair, “one is your personal goal and the other is something secret you wish for yourself,” he explains, “or others.”

Connor smiles.

“Then my resolution and wish are roughly the same. To do everything— _to be able to do_ everything to make you happy.”

Something breaks in the general location of Hank’s heart at these words and is promptly repaired into a feeling of absolute adoration for the human—the uncannily human-like android being sitting next to him.

“Well, Connor,” Hank says, “I’m adding a new resolution to that list and unlike all the others, I swear to keep this one.” He plants a gentle kiss on Connor’s cheek. “Not to be a dumbass and finally tell my partner I love him back.”

The countdown starts. Connor freezes, looking at Hank with a shocked expression.

“I—” Connor smiles as he finds himself unable to continue. Then pulls away and wipes away at his eyes and ruffles his hair for some reason. There’s a clink of metal as he does something with his hands out of Hank’s direct line of vision before turning back and presenting Hank with a— “The gift I mentioned,” Connor says as the clock tolls thirty, “it’s more of a symbolic value, I know, but… well. It means. I mean—maybe it’ll mean something for you… too.”

He shoves the item into Hank’s hand.

“Connor.” Hank is awestruck as he surveys the plain silver chain from which Connor’s LED dangles, glowing brightly, and it’s a bit weird for Hank to see it missing from Connor’s temple. “Are you sure about this? You want me to have it?” It’s fifteen seconds to midnight.

“You’ll still be able to read my moods if you want to,” Connor says, looking up shyly. Ten seconds. “It’s not broken so it’s still connected to my systems.”

Hank laughs, the sound almost like a sob and he feels his eyes prickle dangerously as he puts on the necklace and, grabbing the nape of Connor’s neck, pulls him in for a fleeting, chaste kiss. Five seconds.

“I love you,” Connor says, eyes glowing brighter as the fireworks intensify, and yet he can’t focus on anything else but Hank.

“I love you too, Con,” Hank says just as the ball drops.

The world explodes around them in multitudes of sounds and colors, and all Hank and Connor can do is seal their lips in a kiss as they greet the first of many shared New Years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I’m a little envious of these two bc I spent my new year getting hammered and coming up with the totally swell idea of sliding off an icy cliff while standing up, almost earned myself a concussion and spent the better part of January 1 in a hospital x) I MAINTAIN THAT HANK HAS HAD SIMILAR NEW YEARS IN THE PAST THO SO FUCK IT DRUNKEN ADVENTURES RULE
> 
> p.s. I’m kinda tempted to write a sequel of them traveling somewhere far and joining the mile high club… should I tho. Should I?
> 
> p.p.s. for those curious, here’s a partial list of the places Hank and Connor went to x) – [Max Brenner’s Chocolate Bar](http://maxbrenner.com/); [Museum of Sex](https://www.museumofsex.com/); [Graffiti Wall of Fame](https://www.spottedbylocals.com/newyork/graffiti-wall-of-fame/); [PlayStation Theater](https://www.playstationtheater.com/) (pun very much intended); [Tannen’s Magic Shop](http://www.tannens.com/); [The Mysterious Bookshop](https://www.mysteriousbookshop.com/)
> 
> find me on [tumblr](https://lou-random.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/Lou_Random)


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